Cinderella: Everybody in Drag!
by pen.this.rain
Summary: Gundam Wing Cinderella. Yaoi pairings, wry humor and chaos ahead. I bite at summaries and making titles please read.


**Standard Disclaimer:** I don't own anything, and blah blah blah. GW characters copyright to Sunrise, Inc.; story concept and Cinderella (of course) belong to Disney, Inc. The only thing I'm taking are the O.C.'s; intellectual property and all that. I'm not making any money from this, so please, don't sue me. The only thing I have to give is my pop tab collection.

**Standard Warning:** Yes, there will be yaoi pairings and character stereotypes later on. Deal with it or don't read. And especially, no matter the case, don't flame.

**Author's Note:** First Chapter! Hopefully better and lighter than my other story. R&R if you like it. If you want to post this anywhere, please email me and get permission before you do, or my rabid bunny slippers will pay you a midnight visit. And please enjoy!

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Cinderella: Everybody in Drag!

**Chapter 1: Ransom Notes**

Duo sighed at the frizzled, battered face reflected at him on the glossy tiles. His back and knees ached abominably, and he had the beginnings of a bleach headache, but he was absolutely, unequivocally, finally done with his chores for the day. Frowning, he slapped his wax-soaked rag into the bucket beside him and got cautiously to his feet, stepping off the mosaic floor with the same reverence he would show the Cardinal. Only when he had taken in the full splendor of the immaculate entrance gallery did he allow himself a grin.

The floor absolutely glittered with the reflected light of the stained glass windows set high into the wall. Duo's chest swelled with pride. "Saint Peter, eat your heart out," he muttered, and crossed himself to make sure said saint didn't take offense. His cathedral, after all, was one of the most beautiful in all the western world. Not that Duo had ever seen it, but descriptions from the people in town who had made the pilgrimage to London were impressive. The afternoon sun slanting through the archway warmed Duo's bare feet and, because he knew exactly where his stepmother and stepsisters were, he dropped the empty pail onto the floor and lingered in the heat. They would never know he wasn't still slaving away at the floor.

A discordant blast from the organ sent Duo rocketing to his feet with a startled curse. He stared at the doors to the chapel with horror. _It can't all ready be three._

There was a short jangle of notes that made Duo wince and a tortured shriek from the neglected pipes, but the organist eventually found a key and his stepsisters launched into a toneless rendition of "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring." Duo paled visibly. _Hymns? It must be three. _Time for his stepsisters' voice lessons…and Duo to make his bi-weekly retreat to the graveyard, where their less-than-musical voices were blessedly dimmed.

Quickly, Duo gathered up the discarded pail and hurried across the now-dry gallery, eager to get as far away from the caterwauling in the chapel as he could manage. His stepsisters weren't truly bad. Brats, yes. And horrible singers, possibly. But at thirteen years old, they were really too young to care about trifling things like intonation and tonality. Sighing, Duo hooked his arm onto the banister leading to the outside stair and was assaulted by a wad of paper as he rounded into the hallway.

Smothering the urge to kill whichever of the twins had thrown it, he palmed the ball and whipped back into the gallery. And it was…empty. Duo's eyes narrowed as he scanned the shadows, but the light pouring through the windows left no spaces deep enough to hide a person in. And not even Amelie could move that quickly. Puzzled, he moved to the nearest trashcan to dispose of the ball, but stopped when he saw a bit of a letter in one of the folds. Even if he did recognize the handwriting, his stepmother wouldn't punish whichever of the twins was responsible, but at least _he_ would know and could exact his own revenge. Thoughts of salted porridge and rats in dresser drawers danced in his head as he uncrumpled the paper.

On it, a sinister note was scrawled:

HAND OVER THE RATS, OR FACE MY GODLY WRATH!

Duo stared at the darkly smudged words, uncomprehending.

As swift as the last one, a paper airplane hit the boy in the small of his back. Hard. He yelped, grabbed what he assumed was the next note without turning, and carefully unfolded it.

TURN AROUND, STUPID.

The braided boy's stomach plummeted into his intestines as he obediently pivoted on his heel and looked back into the gallery.

He could just barely make out the form of a nearly black cat hovering in the dim light just at the arch to the chapel. Its glass-green eyes were smug as the dark tail flicked over the ash-collection box from the kitchen woodstove and sent up…soot? Feeling a slow panic rise in his chest, Duo strained his eyes. The box was nearly empty, and he was certain he hadn't cleaned it since lunch. Slowly, hoping he wasn't right, he focused on the cat again. The beautiful gold-cream of her face and single paw gleamed against the massive ashen smudges all over her body.

"Oh, God." He sucked in a breath as the cat delicately set the last cream-colored paw into the tray and lifted it up to display the way the soot caked between the pads. Satisfied, she set her teeth an evil, disturbingly human grin. Duo carefully lowered his pail to the floor and spread his hands beseechingly. "Dorothy, what are you doing?"

The cat hastily scribbled a note, deftly folded it onto an airplane, and tossed it to Duo.

WHAT DO YOU THINK?

"...You wouldn't!"He gasped. The cat sniggered balefully and took a dainty, mincing step onto the floor, stamping a sooty black paw print onto the waxed tile.

"Hey! I just washed that!"

He caught an airplane aimed for his crotch.

EXACTLY. SURRENDER THE RATS OR I'LL DO FAR WORSE DAMAGE.

Quatre and Trowa were the rats who lived in the mouse hole under Duo's cot; long-time residents of the Maxwell Church and his only friends. And Duo was damned if he was going to let Noin's sadistic cat get a hold of them. He pushed his spine up and jutted his chin defiantly. "Never!"

I HAVE NO CHOICE, THEN. SAY FAREWELL.

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**A/N:** Duo's cleaning is under siege! What's a Gundam Pilot to do? And if you said blow something up: Exactly. >:D 


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